


Fragile Deception

by silasfinch



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Buffy The Vampire Slayer Fusion, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen, Moral Ambiguity, Morally Ambiguous Character, Saving the World, Training
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:54:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23350501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silasfinch/pseuds/silasfinch
Summary: Oksana Astankova is a Slayer in WaitingShe is also a former assassin who wants these powers for profitEve Polastri is far from a typical WatcherThey come find answers together
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rysler](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rysler/gifts).



> Oksana POV because a few people requested I try.   
> At least fic is a non contact hobby, huh?  
> Stay safe fic team.

Fragile Deception

_White shirt now red, my bloody nose_

_Sleepin', you're on your tippy toes_

_Creepin' around like no one knows_

_Think you're so criminal_

_Bruises on both my knees for you_

_Don't say thank you or please_

_I do what I want when I'm wanting to_

_My soul? So cynical_

_So you're a tough guy_

_Like it really rough guy_

_Just can't get enough guy_

_Billie Eilish_

I am one of the chosen ones, but that doesn't mean those on the mortal plain are rejoicing. 

Buffy Summers oversees international Slayers Academies and the restitching of the universe after so many years of chaos. For the most part, the plan to bring together all the potential Vampire Slayers is proceeding well. The spell works better than anyone anticipates and almost makes all the sacrifices and lives lost to the cause worth it. 

The central British campus increases with every passing year as more candidates flock from all over the world, finally feeling a sense of belonging. Or at least that last snappy mystical propaganda is in the handbook which is profoundly dull and way too long. The super strength and other perks make listening to annoying 'intentions' almost worth it. 

Nobody wants me here, but the only thing the authorities want less than me being here is the concept of a potential slayer going rouge, even someone like me. Nobody enjoys the notion of those powers without some level of control. I need somewhere to hide and living against supernatural dogooders is useful at times. Some of the contracts went bad in Norway, but few people will come after me in the heart of the enemy territory, as long as nobody expects me to save the world. 

The one thing in favour of this new label and responsibilities is that the ‘lessons’ are not boring. The instructors have us running drills, using weapons and learning interesting ways to kill supernatural creatures. There is a lot of lecturing about responsibility and the long proud line of slayers but I don’t pay attention to those pointless details. My classmates may have been insecure weirdos who need validation but I was awesome long before the mystical ‘summoning;.

As far as I can tell being a slayer is an unpaid version of my previous line of work and everyone is guaranteed to get dust in every conceivable pierce of clothing. The list of potential targets is also dull and there are only so many innovative ways to use stakes and silver. My kill count on the practice patrols is high and earns me praise but its not nearly as satisfying as killing a target with a pulse and functioning brain cells. Nobody needs to know why I have such an advantage in the area. It’s easy to spin a lie about a childhood in the Siberian wilderness.

At least I can explain away the scars and ominous marks for pity and not suspicion. 

***

"We are assigning you a Watcher/Supervisor for your probationary period." 

I know the reaction these people want from me, all submission and atonement, but why fake an emotion that isn't real? There is plenty of decent money to be made on the black market with my new skills, selling them to the highest bidder. It is not like the Councils can strip me of the powers. Rumour has it they tried that with several years back it did not end well. Even the all-mighty Buffy is afraid of human rights violations. The destruction throughout America raises too much speculation as it is, at least my actions were discreet. 

"Are you listening to what I am saying Oksana?"

"Of course not, this breakfast is way too good."

It's true; this place caters to girls with supernaturally high metabolisms; therefore, there is no skimping on the food. This meal is technically my third breakfast, but there is no need for confessions. A professional (theoretically retired) assassin needs to have pride. I am later than most to this party, being in my late 20s. It was easy to avoid The coven's Detection Spell. Russia is a big country, and Europe is a big continent. 

"You can't weaponise your powers for profit; it is completely unethical." 

"Why not, I didn't ask to be born or ‘Chosen’. When did I lose free will?" I challenge singing the prophecy word in they hate.

"At least 10 of the laws and honour codes that you broke." 

"I didn't get convicted by any secular courts or judges. You can't put me on trial."

"Innocent people could have gotten hurt. If people weren't on patrol in the same area, the losses would reach double figures." There is definite anger in words now. 

"I know how to be subtle, unlike the rescue squad." 

It was almost embarrassing from one professional to another how little effort they put into finding me and defending the hoards of people who didn’t even know what was going on. The supernatural world is no longer a secret but human nature is always the same. You can rely on people to be obvious if you give them enough misdirection to follow. A “Feeding Den” (desperate losers who were addicted to Vamps) needed a regular supply and some muscles.

“You don’t want to keep pushing us here, Oksana. A place in this academy is a privilege not an automaniac right of prophecy. You wouldn’t be the first slayer in training to face exposition.”

Xander and the rest of the team need to get better at threatening people. These people to not have the stomach for true torture. While I am sure there is a ‘reject slayer’ jail or something but are few places I haven’t broken out of or set black market deals. Buffy has nobody but her own conscience to blame, statistically speaking not all chosen were going to be good people.

***

"I know who you are." 

"Do you want a gold star or something?" I say while punching the boxing bag. 

Carolyn Martens is one of the few people that doesn't screen their identity with every movement. The new slayers are all wide-eyed and eager, the watchers equally sterotypical. The admin and support staff all wear name tags and smile way too much. Even the basement and Vampire testing area aren't remotely exciting; it's all subject to rules and regulations. 

"I know what the name Oksana Astankova means."

My left jab misses a beat, and I barely avoid the bag flying back at me, the old woman manages to startle me, not something easily done, especially after the transformation. Betraying such a reaction in my former profession would kill me 20 times over. The name Oksana Astankova doesn't mean anything; it is another one in a long line of aliases that I paid good money for, there is no way this British woman can know who is joining the Slayer Party. 

"To clarify, Villanelle, I know Konstantin and what he means to you. We were close once. I would know one of his creatures anywhere. What a strange twist of fate to make one of you a slayer in training?" She sounds more curious than alarmed. 

"If you know who I am and such like, why aren't on my way back to a jail cell? I am quite sure this violates some honour code or something. Wouldn't want me corrupting the little girls?" I drawl. 

"Do you think you are the only one here with a past? You might prove useful in the long run." 

The woman looks like something out of a Bond movie while she studies me with a speculative look. She wouldn’t last a moment in an actual fight with a supernatural creature but everybody respects the older woman without giving her a title. The best I can make out is that she is something of a ‘crisis manger’ who is brought in to deal with the toughest cases. It would be flattering to think that is me but there are plenty slayers needing attention apparently. Not to mention a pathetic number of vampire cults.

***

I am not afraid of any watcher, but I am curious about Eve Polastri. 

My complete lack of interest in anything beyond developing my powers and profit is legendary around here. Some of the younger girls memorise slayers going back generations while others volunteer for extra credit assignments. I have made no effort to fit in or even fake a desire to learn more. The only teachers who are pleased with my progress are the combat soldiers and the stamina coach who wants to sleep with me (again). At the same time, it is almost impossible to avoid the most dramatic stories, even coming from Russia. Buffy's affinity for vampires, Willow Rosenberg trying to destroy the world for love, sex demons and so many more. What happened to the Watcher Eve Polastri is one of those stories that caught my attention. 

Eve Polastri was a low-level watcher who was working for the Watcher's Council when someone decided she would make a good experiment. The details are sketchy even to my sources, but the group wanted to produce an experimental watcher who could be handy in a fight and drop the odds in places with high supernatural quotas. 

"I thought she was dead or off meditating with monks or something?"

Whether or not the test was a success or failure depends on one’s point of view. Eve Polastri survived months of 'treatments' and is far more robust than the average slayer's support crew. She is also more than a little crazy and the stuff of little slayer legends.

"Eve is very much alive and willing to take on this assignment at my request. If anybody can handle your unconventional tendencies, it is her." 

I wouldn't put money on that, but it might be fun to see her try and control me. Half the fun of letting the witches find me is rebelling against their authority and stealing food—three of their best quit within the first six months. Even a lecture from the first slayer herself did nothing to lessen my tendencies. Faith was fun to hang out with, but she is 'redeemed' now, which is a code word for boring. The title for the resident bad girl is open. 

“Before you start scheming and planning to torment Eve, you should know I know about the illegal accounts in Zurich and Berlin. Your side earner with the cartels out of business. You were only useful to them when you could move freely amongst illegal blood markets. I would suggest trying to make this work.”

Carolyn walks away before I can start ranting at the idea that Konstantin betrayed me to this woman he knew from a lifetime ago. Of course I have other accounts but losing those two would be annoying.

***

My new Watcher introduces herself with glitter and glue. 

The words aren't even a metaphor or some LGBT signal. I am waiting in the main library, and an epic glitter bomb lands on me out of nowhere. The thing is not a weapon but it is destructive and coats me from head to toe. My new highlights don't take kindly to the glue and sticky mess. It will take me weeks to get the mix out fully. The shiny plastic isn't even the fun raving kind; ti is cheap and for children's party. It's incredible how fast my index of Russian swear words come back to me, even some local specialities outside of Moscow. 

"Well if you were paying attention you wouldn't have to question my parentage, would you?" A voice asks dryly from the second floor. 

The part of my brain that wasn't busy staring vaguely remembers that Eve Polastri's dead husband was Polish and she knew some Russian. The piece of useless information cames back to me quicker than any reliable impressions of the woman. One the one hand she appears average but one the other striking. It is my job (both new and old) to read people, and I find it tricky to learn anything about her from visual assessment alone. It doesn’t help that she is going for the lurking in the shadows cryptic thing.

"You look good for a half-dead mad woman." I compliment sardonically. 

"You look moderately pathetic for somebody who has The Council in hysterics on both sides on Atlantic; it's almost disappointing." Eve retorts without moving from her perch. 

I am not usually at such a disadvantage. Typically it's me who is covering people in glitter (amongst other things) for no other reason than it is fun. For lack of a better option, I stand still and wait for her to come down, trying to ignore the glue in my eyes. Eve Polastri is older than me, no surprise there, the average age in this place is 89 years. However, she appears ageless and something more than a Watcher who spent most of her life far away from active duty. Maybe the rumours about dragon and unicorn blood are true after all.

***

"Are you ready to listen yet?"

Eve Polastri is putting me through the proverbial paces, and one of my weaknesses is never turning down the opportunity to show off to a pretty lady or general. She doesn't test me in the same way as the other teachers. Eve is sparing with me hard and fast while drawing on a seemingly endless array of weapons from her outfit. At the same time, she is asking me questions in both Russian and English. The later language because she knows I loath any reminders from the Motherland. Her accent isn't half bad, though. It motivates me to keep fighting through even when my muscles start burning. 

"The maverick mystics must have done a number on you if this is your fighting style, why aren't all the bookworms lining up for such enhancements?" I quip between pants. 

"It's a good thing supernatural activity is at an unnatural low. You wouldn't be defeating anything with these pathetic efforts. Stop assuming that you will always be the fastest person in the room; it won't always be the case." Eve instructs before delivering a painful roundhouse sweep. 

The problem is that Eve Polastri doesn’t have a single fighting style. Maybe she is right and I am use to fighting against the people in the academy who always play by the rules. Its impossible to shake the feeling Eve has the upper hand even though I am landing bruising hits to her ribs and chest. I hit the ground hard from a combination of her force and my density. There is no way she will let me forget such a rookie mistake. The annoying thing she is right. The last time somebody was stronger than me in a fight was back in the days of the orphanage. I've earnt the right to be arrogant but not complacent.

"I can go all day and not in a fun way you are hoping for." 

They way she says it indicts she is not unaware of my reputation and that I was admiring her in a less than professional way. Normally I like to toy with the straight woman and push them into an identity crisis. It could be fun to flirt with person like Eve who presents a challenge.

I let her pull me to my feet. 

***

Eve is at least worth avoiding another Siberian winter for, not that this is a hard bar to clear. 

It would be beyond easy to leave this place. I hide from the spells once and can do so again. England shares enough boarders to provide plenty of escape routes, especially for somebody who can live off the grid. Konstantin has enough networks who would take me on that money wouldn't be an issue. The witches would try and find me, but their spells can only go so far. If it comes to it, I can revert to my mercenary ways freelance. There are plenty of vampires and other monsters that people will pay top dollar for, not everyone is as ethical and moralistic as this group. 

"See you tomorrow, same time?" 

There is a challenge in Eve's voice. She is tight with Carolyn and may know precisely what I am thinking. She either doesn't expect me to show up or plans to hunt me down somewhere Bulgaria and Iceland. I can't tell which prospect will disappoint her. Eve doesn't give a lot away even after fighting me for two hours straight. 

"Quit speaking to me in Russian; it sounds even weirder than usual as your third or fourth language. English is fine." I barter without much hope. 

"As soon as you stop acting like it bothers you so much.” 

Eve smiles at me with a strange expression on her face. She isn’t like all the other Watchers or Slayers in this place. She isn’t nervous to look me in the eye and doesn’t even flinch when I display the full extent of my pre Chosen abilities. Its possible Carolyn Martens gives her all she knows (which isn’t as much as she thinks) but somehow I don’t think so, Did I kill somebody in her life or something. Its not possible that I would forget such a distinctive looking woman and her wild hair.

“Why did you take this assignment, I hear you are in high demand in certain circles.”

I am finishing for information with flattery but a part of me wants to provoke a reaction in that calm façade. People are allot of things with me but unaffected and serene are not normally on the list, its disconcerting. Eve turns and begins to neatly arrange the library and everything that was out of order with our impromptu sparring session. There is something halting the simple movements.

“With your complete inattentional to detail and arrogance you wouldn’t last a day against a Master or a lower level Coven. Carolyn hates to see good talent wasted. I’ll see you in the morning Oksana.

It looks like i am staying at least until the morning. 


	2. Questions

_Your silence is my favorite sound_

_Watch me make 'em bow_

_One by one by, one_

_One by one by (one)_

_Count my cards, watch them fall_

_Blood on a marble wall_

_I like the way they all_

_Scream_

_Tell me which one is worse_

_Living or dying first_

_Sleeping inside a hearse_

_I don't dream_

_Billie Elish- You Should See Me in a Crown_

There are significant advantages to being an assassin with supernatural powers. 

While there is no ability to practice my profession here, that doesn't mean there aren't things to apply later. The endless speeches about responsibility and dedication incentivise me more not less. I steal wallets and cash cards from my dormmates without any intention of using them, which is a good thing because being a potential slayer does not make any of these people wealthy. 

I like to think of my time in the academy as two levels of education, for everything they are trying to teach us there are four things for me to add to my skill set. A quiet slayer and also a more productive person to hire. Supernatural infestations are bad for business whether the business in question is legal or otherwise, people are already contacting me through drop boxes and burner phones. There is an entire cottage industry aiming to covert or corrupt slayers in waiting. My current minders do not need to know that little piece of information. I need to develop a backup if Eve turns out to be just another person with a saviour concept.

"You will be under a curfew for the next three weeks while we investigate your latest actions." 

Jess is another mystery within the academy and tends to shadow Carolyn Martens and do the bidding of the Watchers Council without taking an active role in the carnage. She loathes me and what I represent, but she does her best to hide such apathy. Her pregnancy seems to be supernaturally long, and each week makes her bitcher and moodier. Wonder if she is gestating a half-demon. 

"Why don't you just put a techno dog collar on me and be done with it, your boss seems to be into that kind of thing. Although it might violate several laws." 

"By our calculations, you have already violated your restrictions on three separate occasions. I highly recommend pushing the limits a fourth time. You are right, we cannot and won't resort to the type of torture you are familiar with, but that doesn't mean we won't make your life uncomfortable." Jess sounds almost bored rather than threatening. 

"Don't go into premature labour or anything. I will be a good girl and bring the teachers an apple or two. I'll be top of the Trainee Slayer Kill Rankings for the year."

"We don't have any ranking for Kill statistics for potential slayers, nor do we compete against each other at this stage." 

"That's about as convincing as Buffy saying to fall in love with a succession of souled and microchipped vampires was a great idea. You are training the potentials to be killers in all but name; you need to make sure we can hack it, especially the pampered rich kids. Try modelling your system on the old school Russian reformatory school, trust me that will sort the weak ones." 

"I'll take that under advisement."

***

"Were you the first Vampire-Human Hybrid?"

I offer the first of my theories while running on a treadmill blindfolded. An added complication is that this particular exercise equipment is that it rushes between speeds and angles; it challenges both balance and agility. We are doing some version of CrossFit and Eve is designing a circuit for the early morning hours. The gym is busy almost 24/7, but my new watcher doesn't seem to sleep much and drags me in when it is mainly still dark. All the gear is slayer strength-tested and doesn't buckle under my pounding. By the end of the 90 minutes, I'm legitimately struggling to both breathe and banter with this woman. It's hard to tell which of those two things are worse. 

"You are not carrying your weight evenly and efficiently. There is no sense being a rebel slayer with the ego to match if you trip over a tree root trying to get to the target." Eve snaps without glancing up from an old-fashioned stopwatch. 

"When am I going to need to balance on something, let alone run up the side of the building?" I ask as the incline goes to its maximum level of steepness. 

"Hellhounds don't care for the laws of physics or human endurance, and you believe yourself above conventional training, so suck it up and run." 

I may disagree with Eve Polastri's methods, but she does know enough to challenge and motivate me to win. Somehow she makes everything easier and harder at the same time. She sits and watches me like the title of her profession. She wears a steady collection of black and white without much variation. There is no visible sign of her imprisonment or why she is such a skilled fighter. I divide my time between surviving her torturous methods and figuring out the enigma that is doing the torture. I don't even have the energy to steal any more wallets, which is the point. 

***

"Did they want to make you a Watcher Overlord?"

"The Council is fairly corrupt, but it hasn't got to that level yet."

I could tell Eve a few stories about just how ruthless her precious Council was in tracking me down, but there would be no point. The rule these people live by is that all potential slayers are safe in the little bubble of the academy, and there are no exceptions. For all I know, Eve coordinates the hunt for rogue slayers, and that's what got her taken for experimentation. There are still so many things I don't know about this process and my new supervisor in particular. Why she insists on teaching me survival skills is beyond me, it's not like many vamps will exist in the middle of the remotest Amazon rainforest. 

"Prepare fire by hand and forage for a sustainable meal, bearing in mind you are a slayer and have a far higher metabolism. Your superhuman strength and healing will keep you going for a while, but nothing lasts forever, except maybe your ego and arrogance." Eve says from her position, a tree stump. 

"This is staged, the wilderness is a lie in Britain nowadays, too many birds choking on microplastic. Even if you didn't make us drive for hours listening to audio versions of Watchers Diaries, which has to be some form of cruel and unusual punishment right?" 

"We aren't in America, nor are we subject to the statue of such laws, don't you specialise in presenting unusual displays?”

I focus on the fire feeling a strange sense of satisfaction when I see the spark against the small twigs. It takes a while for a small fire to build. I have no idea how long we will be out here, but I don't want to freeze at night. When you grow up in the wrong part of Russia, you develop a whole new appreciation for heat and comfort. I wonder if Eve wants me to find a meal for two, but the woman doesn't seem to eat anything. Besides if I am going feed this woman, it will be far higher fare. 

***

"Are you the product of Willow Rosenberg and the Coven experimenting?"

"I haven't met Willow or any of her fellow witches, let alone for any experiments."

"Not even the fun sapphic kind?" I ask suggestively. 

"Focus on the field splint, Oksana." 

For some reason, Eve insists that I learn how to do first aid at speed. I guess part of being a hero is you can't leave the victims bleeding on the side of the road. It’s harder to get first responders to work in towns with a high concentration of supernatural activity. The possibility of blood contamination takes on a whole new meaning. Wrapping and performing CPR on mannequins is incredibly dull, but it's better than watching the others freak out about having lives in their hands. I genuinely do not care if the future victims of vamp town live or die and maybe that's the big difference between us. 

"Remember vampire bites or attacks don't clot properly, and the veins are slit to bleed more. You need to put extreme pressure on the wound to keep somebody from losing too much blood. Slayer strength will assist you in some ways, but it won't guarantee anything."

"You realise that we are currently saving the life of a piece of plastic, right?" 

Eve moves swiftly and starts tending to the second figure on the table. Her movements are fast and brutal. The following day we are graduating to managing girls in the infirmary when they have a clash in sparing and things. The injuries are minor, but it will still be a growing body to practice on, I just hope nobody is expecting me to have a proper bedside manner and to hold their hands. As far as I can tell my supervision involves doing the grunt work for the academy and shadowing Eve. 

***

"Are you a Watcher Upgrade from the future?"

"Time travel is rarely deliberate, nor is it on a small scale to deal with one troublesome potential slayer. If you ever bothered to read my official file, you would know that I am or was the definition of an average civil servant." 

"There is nothing average about you now, Eve Polastri." 

The woman in question is asking me to isolate and hit a moving target with a wide variety of weapons. None of them are my customised versions, but each of them packs a punch and give me a thrill. The fake vampires are at different levels of the room, and the speed is gradually increasing. The return fire isn't deadly, but it still stings. Eve is in control of the rate and parameters; she is testing me in some ways that doesn't make sense. I could defeat the room with one hand. 

"Don't always aim for a kill shot, there will be times when all you can do is maim them, getting the hell out of there. Nobody is grading your performance, and unlike your last job, killing isn't the ultimate goal all the time." Eve lectures from her position at the end of the room. 

"I can do both Eve, there is no need to do things by half measures, take me to any hunting ground, and I will show you. There is nothing wrong with my survival skills or abilities. " I shot back between rounds. 

"Keep shooting, Oksana."

Somehow she manages to make the targets challenging even for somebody with my level of skill and accuracy. Maybe this probation would be fun afterall.

***

"Do you drink fairy dust and exercise 22 hours a day?"

"It's amusing to me that it took you close to two months to suggest the most obvious explanation for my ability, minus the fairy dust, of course. Not all Watchers are book nerds who wear tweed, especially when there were gaps in slayer lore." Eve smiles at me before turning her attention back to the book. 

"Care to expand on your uniqueness for me, Eve?" I singsong with a smile. 

"Focus on the books, Oksana; there will be a quiz and active confrontations. The theory is a part of your new identity, whether you like it or not. As somebody with such an affinity for languages, this shouldn't be a problem for you, there will be a time when violence or seduction to prove your point." Eve says, gesturing towards the books. 

"If you tell me your life story I'll tell you my real name, Oksana Astankova is generically Russian don't you think?" I weasel for some reason, telling her the details is an attractive prospect. 

"I don't care who you are or how many passports you have. We have a job to do, right here and now."

***

The vampires are on the hunt tonight. 

I take a certain amount of pride in my innovative and spectacular kill techniques. Clients honestly don't care how people die, only that the death occurs and there is no link back to them. One of my favourites was killing the father of the groom five seconds after he gave the toast and the 500+ guests bemoaned the 'tragic accident." Vampires aren't nearly as interesting to hunt down. Despite Buffy Summers saving the world, there will always be the undead ready to find prey. There are exotic 'breeds' of vamps with brain chips and even children, but the regular variety is still the mainstay. Eve insists we do regular sweeps of around the higher density population areas on the outskirts of London. Europe's borders made it easier for nests and clans to migrate. 

"I'm going to figure you out, Eve Polastri; it only seems fair if I'm your lab rat for 'unorthodox training' method." I bargain, lengthening my stride to reach the edge of the park. 

Eve is taking active participation in the vampire killing. Most Watchers, even warrior ones, don't actively hunt, and she is shadowing and quizzing me during the downtime. New vampires aren't particularly intelligent and will stumble to attack even if they know that I'm a chosen one. I don't actively sense the vampires, it’s more a sense of the general area of high activity. 

"Obsessing over my 'mystery' is waste your considerable brainpower. I'm not an exotic species for you to collect like a kleptomaniac magpie." 

Before I can come up with a sharp quip, a gang of young vampires lunge towards us with more coordination than the others that night. My record for one night is 27 individual vamps; these four might present more of a challenge; they are older and freshly fed; my enhanced senses can smell the blood and satisfaction. Somewhere there is a person who is lying dead or near dead. The lead vampire is the leader, and his slaves and progeny are circling me in something that resembles a strategy. 

"There is a bounty for anybody willing to rid the streets of the rookie slayers; you seem like a prize worth claiming. Your blood is supercharged too, not like the Originals, but still a treat after a dry spell." 

I hate the vamps who insist on sharing their life stories before getting to the fighting part, alive humans are bad enough when they prattle on but the dead are extra dull. The main guy is standing in the way that indicates he has some martial arts training. They move towards me from multiple different angles, and the team has been in their new bodies for a while and embrace the speed. 

Vampire One goes for the classic front and grabs for my arms; he is consumed with blood lust and can't do much beyond fixating on my jugular vein. I twist and yank him off his feet while palming a slender stake from my boot. He struggles and evades my first stab, but my balance and centre of gravity win the war. The dusting is terrible on my outfit as usual, but there is a whole wardrobe of generic 'slayer clothes' available. 

Vampire Two doesn't learn to a lot from his friend and lunges to be from the side; he does manage to attempt a few kicks and whacks my shoulder with a fair degree of skill. I throw him into the tree with a flying stake more out annoyance than actual pain. He dissolves to dust without much protest. 

Vampire Three insists on circling me and watching my movements without striking as if she will learn something from experience. More for fun than practical purposes, I reach for the holy water and hold it up from her inspection. Eve hates it when I get creative with weaponry, but the boredom is real. She dodges my first attempt and forces me to move back and strikes at my torso. Working up a sweat is a sign of the vampire's experience. 

I am tired enough to be caught off guard by the leader's revenge. He waits until I am mentally celebrating the triple score, he stole my stake from the tree and threw it back at me and the weapon slices deep into my shoulder. It's right about now I regret modifying my set of stakes to be more efficient and subtle. Holy water doesn't hurt me per se, but it still stings like mutant fire ants. The whole incident happens in a manner of seconds, and he flees before Eve can act as backup. There is something unusual about that vamp, and I like to know about strange things in this line of work.

"You were lazy and overconfident." Eve hisses the reprimand before tearing at my jacket to look at the wound.

"Worth it if it gets you so eager to get my clothes off." 

The comeback lacks my usual flair. The adrenaline wearing off means that my pain signals are on full display. Slayer healing prowess will kick in soon enough, but my modified weapons are effective against all skin, even the magical kind. The cut burns and blood is staining my shirt, and I might also end up with a legitimate scar this time. I have the urge to clean up all the evidence of the fight it takes a while to adjust to the new routine where people know "Oksana Astankova." 

"What the hell were you thinking of leaving you and your weapons up for grabs like that? Not mention the 'super stakes' do more damage to humans rather than our targets." Eve's voice has an unusual accent when she is furious about something, another titbit of information. 

"He was a strange vamp; normally they can't handle stakes at all, much less as weapons. I'll be fine in the morning, happy for you to play doctor though."


End file.
